Romancing an Angel
by 22671991
Summary: A collection of short pieces I wrote a very long time ago on the KS forum. Since the game now has its own category, I might as well share. Interpretation of characters and their relationship is totally non-canon. Probably.
1. Chapter 1

The twittering of birds rings sharp and clear through the empty garden. There is no breeze here. The still air is cool and light, and the morning sunlight flickers through the branches of the trees, casting dappled patterns of shadow across the carefully trimmed grass. Crystal water splashes over smoothly polished stones in an artificial stream, the soft trickling sounds adding to the picturesque aura of the garden.

I realise, not for the first time, that I don't care about any of those things.

Sapphire eyes that do not see, and yet always seem to stare into my soul. As she turns to face me again, I feel as if I am standing at the edge of some vast ocean, and I feel myself slipping.

How the lines of her face seem to flow like soft sand blown by desert winds, as if only nature herself could achieve something so beautiful. When she smiles, the sun is so easily eclipsed by her radiance.

"Are you okay?"

A little too late, I hear that melodious voice calling to me like a siren's song. I can but shake my head to clear out my own childish fantasies; her hold on me is far stronger.

"S…sorry," I stutter so awkwardly, and yet it brings that laughter to her lips again that always delights my ears.

"Poor Hanako," she replies in that soft voice. To hear her tongue caressing my name in such a way brings a flutter to my chest. "Perhaps it was not best to rouse you so early this morning. If I had taken the time to think of how hard you must be working lately…"

"No, of course not! I'm more than happy to be here with you, as long as you don't mind."

Does her smile widen slightly at that, or is it my hopeful imagination?

"Having you here makes the garden feel so much more alive, my dear Hanako." Now I know she's just trying to make me blush. "You always make my day seem brighter, and for that I fear I do not appreciate you enough." It's working.

Oh, if only you could see the way your words make me blush. If only you could look into my eyes and see how being here with you makes me feel. Words cannot express this.

"Thank you," I reply in a very small voice indeed.

This scene of tranquil beauty does not need petty conversation. Watching her form move with unheard rhythm, her body flowing like the water that trickles along its stony path, that is enough. The sun catches her hair with every graceful movement of her head, setting it ablaze with ripples of golden light. I can do nothing but sit and watch as she becomes one with the nature around us.

"…"

My mouth opens to speak, but my tongue is frozen, lost while my mind races to catch up.

"Lily."

I whisper her name to myself, knowing full well that she will hear it. That mesmerising gaze turns to me.

But I find myself lost for words. Something inside me is clawing and screaming to escape, to burst forth from my mouth, but the words to set it free do not come to me so easily. I can only stare back into her unseeing eyes, lost forever.

The moment passes in silence, and I regret nothing. Her smile is enough to satisfy the unnameable longing.

For now.


	2. Chapter 2

It was a quiet, lazy sort of day, the sun high and bright in an azure sky seemed to make the silence all the more profound. The gentle sound of music carried far through the deserted halls on a cloudless, sunny Saturday afternoon. A soft, soothing piano melody neither cheerful nor melancholy, but somewhere in between, a relaxing wisp of a tune, floated out from the only open classroom door.

The room was much like any of the others, but it had been cleared of chairs and desks to make room for, among other things, a well aged piano that looked like it had been polished once too often; the sheen of lacquer was buffed almost through, the dull surface of the bare dark wood beneath. Several chairs were arranged in a loose semicircle a good few metres wide, which made the instrument even more of a fixture as if emphasising its presence. Most of the chairs were unoccupied, as a tall girl with golden blonde hair played that slow and slightly haunting melody to the empty room.

As the tune faded away into the peaceful silence, a contented smile overcame her.

"You always play so beautifully." The quiet lilt of a feminine voice barely broke the silence, almost a whisper. "I wish I could play the way you do."

"An artist is nothing without her art," the blonde girl replied in a warm tone that was almost motherly. Her fingers flowed across the keys again as if feeling for something trapped in the narrow spaces between. "Without you, I fear I would forever be playing the scales like a broken old record until my fingers were numb and my love was all worn out."

Words spoken in that earnest and refined voice brought a soft colouring of pink to the cheeks of a girl with long dark tresses of the most lustrous plum coloured hair. She brought one slender, pale-skinned hand up to her face, stopping a giggle behind delicate fingers.

The blonde girl continued, her fingers still tracing patterns on the keys as if in practice. "You bring music to my lips and to my fingers as if it were water flowing from my veins. I can only hope that my most sincere efforts bring you the same joy your presence has brought to me, ever since I first met you."

The dark haired girl tipped her nose down towards the floor, hair falling down around her face in concealing waves as the pink in her skin fluoresced to a deep scarlet.

"Lily…really, sometimes you say the most embarrassing things."

The blonde pianist raised her head quite suddenly, as if in realisation, and she turned about slowly on the short cushioned stool till she faced her companion across the room. Eyes of deep, shimmering cobalt gazed emptily, misted over by a pale haze. Again she smiled, a slow, warm smile that spread across her face.

"Would you like me to stop?"

The girl with the long purple hair shook her head, eyes of deep violet rising from the floor to meet the unseeing gaze of the musician.

"Play something else," she replied imploringly in that tiny voice. She caught the gaze of those hazy cerulean eyes, a sightless gaze that seemed to draw her in, unable to look away. For what seemed like a long while, they sat in silence, locked in that most unusual of exchanges.

At last, the blonde girl rose from her seat before the grand instrument, shaking out sunny locks as she stood. She slid the lid of the piano shut with a quiet bump, then bent to reach for the black case that lay open by her feet. Her fingers, unguided, still found the neck of the violin with a graceful ease and slipped the instrument out of its cradle. With a twirl that looked almost careless, and yet so elegant, she brought the violin up to rest on her shoulder, bow in hand.

"What would my darling Hanako like me to play today," she wondered aloud as she brushed the bow feather-light across oiled string, bringing the softest of squeaked notes from the instrument in her hand. "Strauss, perhaps? Anything in particular you'd like to hear? I am always ready to play whatever you want to hear."

"I want to hear you play," replied the blushing girl with the plum coloured hair while her hands fidgeted in her lap. "I like your music the best."

Lily smiled that slow, gentle smile of hers again, gesturing with her bow. "Is that not, perhaps, because you know that it was made for you." She didn't have to see to know the sudden flush such words would bring, having felt the heat by her fingertips enough times in the past. She shook her hair again in a way that was purely aesthetic, golden flowing locks shimmering in the sunlight. "Then you shall have your music, my most precious muse, if it makes you as happy as you say. More reward I could not ask for."

"Play me something to dance to," requested the dark haired girl. "I don't think I've ever heard that from you."

"A tango then." Lily smiled again. "But then, it takes two for that."

"You're here, aren't you? Perhaps I just want to imagine what it would be like to dance with you?"

The blonde musician let her smile ebb slightly as her face flushed at the thought. In lieu of a reply, she brought the bow back to its place and drew a first long, deep note.

At first, the violin chirped and hummed and groaned as if with a life of its own and chattering animatedly with its mistress. Then, in a series of quick, short utterances, the music began to flow. The blonde girl began to sway slightly on her feet as her bow drew out an energetic yet oddly haunting tune that brought a feeling of both joy and sadness, winding together in Hanako's mind into a longing, a passionate yearning of some unnameable fashion. She found herself moved, at once smiling and shivering, like the crisp beauty of a bitter winter's day flowing through her soul. As always, she was right; Lily made the most beautiful music of all.

"I would gladly dance with you, my love," the blonde whispered to her companion through the sound of a bittersweet tune. "Unto the end of the world."


	3. Chapter 3

It's autumn now, you can feel it in the air. The leaves turning gold and red and falling like rain. The air turning colder as summer fades like a distant memory. The sky is turning cloudy overhead, dark masses ready to burst and shower the unsuspecting people below.

On this cooler air, the smell of the sea carries further inland. Down here, right at the harbour, it's so strong that I can taste salt with every breath. Seagulls hover above the water, bobbing with the passing waves. People come here less and less now with the weather turning greyer each day. Not many people in this city own a boat, so only a few are moored here permanently at this time of year, including a big fishing trawler. It's peaceful here now and not too cold yet, so this is the best time to come to be alone.

Alone… It's a good thing there's no one around to see me. I can't seem to stop blushing at all this afternoon.

"Is something wrong, Hacchan?"

She knows I jumped. She knows I was daydreaming, barely awake at all, letting my feet do the walking. She knows that I'm blushing right now, too. She always does.

"N…no," I stutter meekly, staring down at my shoes on the damp concrete. True. Nothing is wrong. Not here, with her, alone together. I look up at her again and she shows me that beautiful slow smile of hers, as if she knows just what it does to me and is using it to tease me even more. Her hair, free of the ribbon she usually ties it with, undulates slowly in the sea breeze. The hem of the long blue dress she wears billows out in much the same way around her legs.

"Well then, we don't want to keep her waiting, do we?" With that, she turns and follows the railing along the dockside towards a small jetty, leaving me with the image of her in my mind.

"Lily," I call out after her when I realise I've been standing here like a fool. "Wait!" But she knows I'll run to catch up.

The jetty is right by the water, down a flight of concrete steps. We're so low now that I could reach over and dip my foot in if I wanted to. The salt-stained wood creaks under my weight as I follow the angel in blue to the very end, where a boat is waiting for us it seems. She stops right at the edge, how does she do it, and turns to me with that gentle smile beckoning me on.

Boat is the right word. This is no ship, just a little motorboat with two padded black benches just wide enough for two people, and a narrow area at the front for the pilot to stand. It dips and sways gently on the water's surface, tied to the end of the jetty from fore and aft. The pilot is already standing on the front of the hull astride the narrow gap with the prow rope in his hand, ready to cast off at a moment's notice.

"H…hello," I venture, feeling bold today. I have good reason. But the pilot only smiles down at me from beneath the white cap.

"Come now, Hanako," calls that angelic voice with a hint of amusement. "We'd best be off." She takes the helmsman by the hand with an air of practiced grace and steps aboard to slip into her seat on the far side.

I don't think I've ever been on a boat before. I can feel the hull moving beneath me as I plant one foot, ready to climb aboard. But then comes the sound of that angelic laugh, and I know that if I do something foolish, she'll be worrying all afternoon.

I take the pilot by the hand, how easily that brings more colour to my face, and he helps me into my seat. If I can't try to show off my self-confidence, then sitting here by her side with her hand on mine is more than consolation.

I wonder if she knows how much it means to me, or does she simply find this contact relaxing? What does it matter?

I'm not sure how long it takes us to ride out to the ship. I haven't been paying much attention. Watching the waves breaking against the harbour wall, gulls diving over the foaming spray, the sunlight glittering off the rolling ocean in the distance, why would anyone want to keep track of time out here? As the land fades into the distance until it's just a thin black line on the horizon, I feel more and more isolated out here, more and more alone. It's relaxing.

The ship is just a speck at first. Then a dot. Then a blur, then a shadow. It seems to rise up out of the waves as we approach, like a creature being born from the very depths of the ocean. By the time we come close, I can really appreciate how big it is. The main mast towers above the waves like an ancient tree of some colossal breed, thick cables trailing down towards the deck. The deck itself is well above our heads, the hull a gleaming white from bow to stern. It arcs elegantly up out of the water at the prow so that the end of the deck is suspended over the waves. At the back, there is a similar arrangement, though squared much like the rear of a cruise ship. A platform hangs from the stern just under the water's surface, suspended by thick cables.

"What do you think, Hacchan?"

I turn to see Lily's face gazing expectantly in my direction. Even under that wonderful smile, she can't hide a hint of worry. Not from me.

"It's beautiful!" That it is. I never imagined when she told me that she had a private yacht that it would be something so grand. I can see the cabin from here, the wide window at the front must be the bridge, and enough space for…

…well now, what _does_ one put on a private yacht?

"Her name is _Ocean Flower_," says the girl with the white-gold hair. English isn't a strongpoint of mine. It takes me a moment to realise.

"L…Lily," I stutter, and she just laughs again.

The little motorboat settles onto its cradle with a judder. The engine cuts out and the sound of a winch above us rises over the gently lapping waves as the platform begins to lift up towards the deck. Soon, I find my hand in the pilot's grasp once again and stepping down onto the polished wood.

"This is incredible," I tell myself as I look around. Lily already has one hand on the rail that runs right around the edge of the deck, watching me with an expression that sometimes makes me wonder if she _can_ see me.

"I'm glad you like it." The pilot finishes tying up the boat behind me and walks off along the deck, disappearing inside. "In fact, it would be fair to say I'm quite relieved."

"Eh?"

"All in good time, Hacchan." Now she turns and leads me inside. Through a narrow metal door, down narrow metal stairs, to a broad hallway with thick red carpeting and a varnished wooden ceiling, white painted walls, double doors on either side at regular intervals. There must be five or six rooms here, and this is just the first deck. This place really is bigger than I expected!

My angel in her faintly translucent opal dress, with her golden hair flowing behind her like a trail of light, leads me down the corridor right to the end. The doors take up the whole breadth of the passage, the same formless white as all the rest, with polished brass handles in the centre. She clutches both and throws them wide with a giggle that seems so unlike her that I have to blush, seeing her so carelessly happy.

Lily's room is the largest of all of them, she tells me. It's certainly bigger than both our dorm rooms put together. We must be right at the front of the ship, because I can see the curvature of the bow edging into the walls at the far end, narrowing the room slightly where Lily's bed nestles in, swathed in pale green sheets and bordered by lilac drapes on a semicircular rail. To the left is a wardrobe, free-standing, it looks like a priceless antique carved from darkly stained wood, and it takes up a good portion of the wall. To my right, opposite, is a small circular hardwood table and three matching chairs. I can just imagine seeing Lily sitting here, eating breakfast, talking with her father about his business, or relaxing by herself with some tea.

"Well?"

Her voice breaks me from my reverie. I bring my gaze back to her now, and feel heat in my face.

"What do you think? Do you like your bedroom?"

She sits perched on the end of the bed, her hands resting in her lap, with her head tilted up at me elegantly as ever. Sunlight hair falls about her face in loose tresses, framing her soft cheeks and brushing her bared shoulders. Her blouse now unbuttoned, lying limp on the bed behind her, unnecessary now that we're away from the chilling autumn winds of the coast. The delicate straps of her dress don't hide the equally fine, slender curvature of her collarbone from view, the graceful arching of her throat and neck, nor does the straight hem do much to conceal the milky skin of her upper chest. A lock of hair falls across the left side of her face, half hiding her eye, almost a mirror of my own. She seems not to notice, keeping me locked in her gaze, staring into those misty cobalt eyes of hers.

"Hanako?"

Her expression, so serenely content, tightens into mild curiosity at my silence. I feel both pain to see the hint of worry in her eyes, and a selfish spark of joy knowing that that worry is for me. My face burns again. What would she think if she could see?

"Sorry," I mutter weakly, unable to bring my gaze away from her sightless stare. "I just…a little overwhelming." Not exactly a lie. She once again treats me to the sound of sweet, musical laughter.

"Well then, I suppose it wasn't fair of me to spring such a thing on you." I frown. What does she mean? Spring what? Did I just miss something important? "You don't have to decide straight away."

"De…cide?"

"There are many other rooms," she continues, nodding slightly to my half-formed question. "You could pick any one of them. But I would prefer…" The ever so slight emphasis she puts on "I" as if that may change my mind. How well she knows me. "…if you would use this one. This was my room, after all. It would only do to have you use it from now on."

Her room. The thought makes me feel suddenly light-headed. Lily's private yacht. Lily's bedroom. Lily's _bed_. Wait…

Realisation creeps up on me like a runaway train.

"This…you…you mean you…" I can only gesture inarticulately to the ship all around us, stuttering past my utter surprise. "This whole ship!?"

"Indeed," she replies with a firm nod that tells me she's decided this already, whatever I may say. To decline her would be heartless of me now, not that I would anyway. "Consider it a gift."

"But…" I can't really think of anything to say right now. Part of me wants to faint. Another part wants to… I can feel myself slowly turning crimson. At least, an answer comes to mind. "O-of course! But…why?"

The smile she gives me now, I can't help but think all the others were just for show, to appease anyone else who might be watching. This moment of tranquil beauty before me outshines them all. It is as if she can simply open her chest, and let her soul shine out at me in all its radiance.

"Because, my dear Hanako," she explains, and I thrill to hear her tongue caressing my name however subtle it may be, "had I two such beautiful flowers in my life, one of which makes the other appear as plain as a blade of grass, I would fear that she would become awfully jealous of you."

"Lily…" How can she make my knees tremble like this, my heart flutter in my chest, tears spring to my eyes?

"Happy birthday, my sweet little flower."


	4. Chapter 4

I am a passenger.

Strange how, of all things, now I can't get that song out of my head. The thought makes me smile.

"Hey, nee-chan?"

A deep, masculine voice brings me from my daydreaming. It takes me a moment to realise that the car has stopped moving. Who can say how long I've been sitting here with my head on the window, off in my own world.

"We're there," the driver tells me, as if it wasn't obvious already. His face in the rear view mirror looks back at me with concern. "You okay?"

"Fine," I say, not believing it. "I'm fine."

He just sits there, looking guardedly back at me, trying to see through my masquerade. Good luck there, pal.

"I…I'm really sorry about…" But he waves me off with one hand, turning from concern to amusement on his face.

"Part of the job."

That doesn't really make me feel any better about it.

"It's just that…I don't think I've ever really told anyone…all these things…"

He gives me a curious look. For a moment, it's almost like he's one of those professional therapists you see on TV sometimes, or a psychologist moonlighting as a taxi driver. Why he would want to is anyone's guess.

"You'd be surprised how easy it can be to open up to a complete stranger," he assures me with a smile in his eyes, tight-lipped. "Especially when you know you'll never meet again."

"I…guess that makes sense." I can feel my face starting to heat up again now. "Anyway, thank you again."

"Enjoy your party," he tells me with a grin, "nee-chan. Hope it goes well for you."

This is where we part ways, mister mystery driver, for good. As the door thuds shut behind me, I can't help but feel a little inadequate. If only I could really say how much I appreciate this.

The tyres crunch through the gravel driveway, and then that little box on wheels that has been my refuge for so many long hours now is gone again. I feel a moment of apprehension. Lily won't like hearing how I spent most of my allowance riding round in circles for most of the day. Maybe the dress will make up for it.

It's a big porch, but then it's a big house. I'm sure you could probably park a small limo on the middle step, the big wide one halfway to the door, like a platform for all the guests to congregate before entering. It shouldn't really surprise me that there's a doorman too standing next to the big polished oak doors, holding one open for me. The fact that he recognises me on sight is a little unnerving. How much has Lily told of me to her friends and family?

I suddenly feel a churning in my stomach. Doubting her is just as difficult as always, it seems.

I have to fight the urge to shrink back, to hide myself from sight. This is the time to stand out and be noticed. It doesn't matter that the sleeves on the dress that cost so much don't reach right to my wrists, and so leave a good deal of the pale, scarred flesh across the backs of my hands bared. It doesn't matter that the neck is so low, either, and that the doorman can see the unusual white pattern travelling down the right side of my neck and collar. It certainly doesn't matter the way the purple velvet clings to my body at every turn, or how the long slit up the left side leaves right up to the mid-thigh exposed. What matters is the click click the heels make on the smooth marble steps, and the way the doorman's eyes widen when I toss my hair the way dear Lily showed me, the way that leaves the right side of my face revealed for just a moment.

"Have a nice evening, ma'am," he stutters at me as I stride past. It's taking all my concentration not to trip in these heels, or to turn around and run. I look back at him over my shoulder and smile dangerously.

"We'll see."

How exhilarating that feels.

Inside is just as busy as I expected. The entrance hall is a clutter of servants flitting to and fro between impatient guests chatting and laughing and busying themselves in one another's company, all dressed to fit the occasion, and to demonstrate their own high stature and wealth in the face of this extravagant reception. I ignore them all, but the turning of heads and catching of breath as I pass by them all resolutely fills me with both terror and joy. A maid intercepts me as I approach the ballroom with a tray in her hands, ready to offer me something or other, but she too seems to be caught off guard by my appearance up close. She turns to stare as I glide through the open doorway, gently pushing my way past another group of people probably twice my age in clothes worth more than I want to consider.

I'm just in time. I can hear it swelling in the background, that familiar tune I've heard so many times now, but this time it's different. This time, not just a hum but a full orchestra. The crescendo approaches. My time is short.

She's easy to spot in any crowd, especially this one, when she's the centrepiece of the whole evening. There she is, in the middle of the floor, being whirled round in slow patterns by a man who could be her father, or one of his business associates perhaps. Does it matter? I push my way politely but firmly through the crowd towards her and pay no attention to the flustered butler who seems rather troubled by my unannounced appearance.

I stumble at the edge of the floor, and almost trip. I don't think I've ever seen anything like this.

She has her arm on the man's shoulder, her hand clasped in his, and her face is alight with the simple pleasure of the dance as they drift round in their endless pattern. Her radiant golden hair, held back from her face and tied at the back with a beautiful crimson bow, flows down the back of her neck to her shoulders. Her delicate features are turned up with joy, hazy opal eyes sparkling up at him in a way that makes the poor man's face glow. How she does enjoy doing that. She looks so graceful and elegant, two words I've come to associate closely with her, now wholly inadequate to describe the way she drifts from foot to foot, the hem of the billowing ankle-length skirt hiding her legs in a way that makes her appear afloat on the open dance floor.

I track my eyes up along that skirt and find my face turning a fresh shade of scarlet; the waist does pinch in along the curve of her hips ever so pronouncedly, demonstrating her womanly figure to all. The pastel blue-and-green fabric curls up to capture her breast, lifting and presenting them in a way I know must have been her idea, her father would never consider such a thing appropriate. The dress is sleeveless, and more than that, entirely strapless, only a pair of long blue-green gloves cover her arms up past the elbow. As she turns with the music, I see that it's all but backless too, leaving everything from her waist up completely bared.

"How bold as ever, Lily."

She can't have heard me over the music and the murmur of the crowd, and yet her face snaps toward me with a curious expression as I approach. Her partner notices and turns to look himself. I'd like to think he seems rather stunned by my appearance.

"May I cut in?" I smile to the man with at least a head over me as I slip one arm between the two of them. He nods dimly and bows to the blonde beauty before stepping back to allow me to take over.

"But," is the first thing she says to me, her eyes locked to my face with that same confused look still in her expression. "I didn't think you knew how to lead."

"I learned." I can only hope that sounded as confident as I intended. Still, she smiles at me with the warmth I've come to cherish as I take her hand in mine. She steps into the embrace with her free hand resting on my shoulder as she did with her previous partner, but I've other plans for you, my dear Lily.

She gasps when my arm slips round her waist, feeling the bare skin of her back, and pulls her body close against me. As much as she always teases, she's blushing more than me now, her chest against mine so tightly that I imagine I can almost feel her heartbeat, and her breath is warm on my nose.

And then I lift her off her feet and sweep her across the floor the way she's so often described to me, the way she says she's always wanted to experience it. Perhaps, or perhaps not, I can't say that I'm strong enough or skilled enough to give her a proper high-class performance, but I can give all that I can. I do just that, until her heart is beating so hard and fast I _can_ feel it, until she's panting softly against my face and laughing with delight, her cheeks rosy and her eyes shining with laughter.

The music plateaus and slowly falls back to its previous leisurely tone, and now I can hold her against me and enjoy the way it feels to have her cheek on my shoulder, her breathing still heavy in my ear as she catches her breath.

"Thank you, Hanako," she whispers at last in the voice that makes me shiver. "It was a wonderful experience indeed…but what brought this on, I wonder? Why such a sudden change of heart?" She pulls away only so far as to look me in the eye, even with her sightless gaze, as if she could look into my very soul with those misty cerulean eyes of hers. "Is something wrong?"

Am I crying? Is it a tear I feel running down my cheek? Or am I just imagining it perhaps, fearing the worst. I wouldn't want to cry now, not when I've come so far for this.

"Something _is_ wrong," I manage to say, finally. "Something has been wrong for a long time now, but I know what it is now, and I want to fix it."

Her mouth turns down in that way that says she knows what I'm about to say, or thinks she does at least. Damn, but her body feels so good in that dress. I can't help holding her in both hands now, feeling the curve of her waist through the thin fabric, the way she flexes as we continue our duet.

"Hisao?" She narrows her eyes now slightly, focused on her own thoughts. "I know something has happened between the two of you…" I don't want to interrupt her, but I must.

"Yes, something. Something I think…that may change my life forever. Maybe it already has."

"That's wonderful, Hanako dear," she replies with her usual certainty, but a hint of trepidation in her voice. "I feared I may have done something horribly rash earlier on and I could only hope that the two of you were okay."

"It's not your fault, Lily." That's all I can say, though. Right now I just want to enjoy this. I've never danced with anyone like this before, not even her. It just feels so…good.

"Hisao likes you," my voice prompts my mind to follow with a shudder, after what seems like forever. "I know you've been so good to me, you're so kind and generous, and you're such a wonderful friend. I don't think I've ever felt so…appreciated in all my life. But seeing you with him still made me…it hurt. And I didn't know why."

"Hanako…"

Her hand on my face again, so many times but still I can't stop blushing each time anew. She always favours the right side, and I can't bring myself to stop her. Not now either, with the glistening sheen of moisture in her eyes gazing back at me with tender compassion.

"That's why Hisao isn't here tonight. I wanted to come and tell you myself, and he agreed to let me." My voice wavers, but I know I can do this. I know. "I'm just so glad that we could talk, so that I could sort out all these things in my head. You mean so much to me, I couldn't bare to just let it all end without trying to sort everything out first. Even if it means you hate me afterward. Even if it means you…"

I can't. My voice won't go on, and neither can I. I'm only glad that she can't see how painful this is, but no doubt she can feel it on my face, hear it in my voice, the way she always does.

"Please don't make me go," I choke out at last. It has to be said. Even if it makes her face scrunch up into such an expression of tortured helplessness that makes my heart ache. Now she _is_ crying, even if I promised I wouldn't.

"Don't say that." Her voice is barely a whisper, so weak and frail, and she tosses herself against me once more, arms tight around my neck. "I would never begrudge your heart. You're too precious to me. I would rather stay your friend than steal your love away for myself."

Why can't I say it? Why can't I just out and say it?

"Lily…" The music rises towards a climax, but that's all subconscious now. All that matters is her in my arms as she leans back almost unnoticeably, the way she showed me so many times. "You already have."

For a second, she looks as if she could burst into tears at any moment. Then fear and pain turn to a stunned blankness.

Her lips taste of honey.

Was I too forceful? Was it too swift, or too firm, or too demanding of me? I can only hover here now, with her practically hanging in my arms, holding her body up with both hands the way she showed me once long ago, watching her expressionless face. I watch and wait, and something breaks across her features like a sunrise, slow and beautiful.

"Hana…Hanako…"

I can't help but find it amusing to hear _her_ stutter _my_ name now in such a way, as I once did hers when we first met. But my conscious mind is too busy longing for that touch again to consider it. I kiss her one more time, the same, but slower, longer this time. It's just as sweet and just as soft as the first.

Then her arms tighten round my neck, and she's kissing me before I have time to be surprised. The ballroom fades around me until all that exists is her.

I was chaste, that much I can say for myself. To have stolen dear Lily's first kiss, or perhaps not quite the first, I can still say that I gave such elegant lips a pleasurable experience. But this, she in return, is like an animal. Like a desperate, starving soul clinging to me in need, with her lips teasing mine apart imploringly. She has no force, no surety, but she has the pleading touch that makes me powerless to do anything but open my mouth to her in reply. Her tongue touches mine.

Like a lightning bolt, the shock breaks us apart, and she panting from the suddenness of it all. Sweat on her brow, I know there must be on mine now and more, face drenched, given how hot I feel all of a sudden. I don't think I ever planned on doing that, certainly not here with all these people. Her cheeks are a lovely pinkish colour that just makes me want to kiss them too. But before I have a chance, she pulls herself up against me for the second time, except now I kiss her first. Except it doesn't matter any more. What matters is the way she laps at my lower lip, the way her teeth feel so neat and pristine and delicate in her mouth just like the rest of her, the way she seems to take my breath away every time, and of course the way her hands slide from collar to shoulder, and then she slips her arms under mine and I take a hand to the back of her head and cup the small of her back in the other, and the contact of her bare skin to my palm sets her face afire.

Say it. Say it now, you idiot.

"Lily…" My tongue caresses her name, but still I fear I do her no justice. "You're the first person in my life who really liked me for who I was, and didn't care what I looked like, you're the only person in the world I really feel I can trust with anything. You're the only one who ever said I was beautiful and meant it."

Her hand is on my face again and her eyes on mine. It doesn't matter that she can't see how much it hurts, or how happy I am now. She always knows. Her fingers tracing lines on my skin, etching her patterns into me forever, leaving her mark on me.

"But you were always wrong, Lily, you're so much more than me. I could never be so kind and open and trusting as you. That's why I love you so much."

Her breath catches in her throat. I can feel her heart hammering against my chest. Her body is so soft and inviting to my touch, I can't stop thinking about it any more. I want to hold her like this forever.

"I've done something terrible to you, I know, but I hope you can forgive me for it. I can only beg you not to make me go. I don't think I could leave you for anything, Lily. Not anything."

Now, you idiot.

Thank all the gods of heaven my fingers can find it when my brain can't. Lost in the sensation of her, of her scent filling my awareness and the sweet, faintly spicy taste of the wine and her lips, and the feeling of her body pressed so tight against me, my left hand can still open a box all by itself. That little trinket feels as heavy as the world in my hand, but I can bring it to her gaze all the same.

The sapphire twinkles in the bright light, like a distant star. The band fits to her finger perfectly.

"It matches your eyes," I tell her in a whisper, and she just nods. Is this the part where she says "Thank you, but…" and gives it back?

"Hanako," is all she says. I've never heard it like that before.

She throws her arms round my neck again and pulls me into another passionate kiss that stretches on forever. I just hope that means "yes."

**ＴＲＵＥ ＥＮＤ**


End file.
